


Flatulentia

by widgenstain



Series: Tumblr scribbles [3]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Established Relationship, Farting, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Silly, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-18
Updated: 2013-04-18
Packaged: 2017-12-08 20:51:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/765880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/widgenstain/pseuds/widgenstain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cherik farting in bed. I am twelve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flatulentia

**Author's Note:**

> Revised version of what I posted on tumblr. In another word: procrastination.

Charles climbs under the blanket and sighs contentedly. When he first met Erik he did not imagine flowery cotton sheets in his bedroom, more something in the line of magenta satin, but he has to say, they’re rather comfy.

It fills him with such giddiness that their fresh relationship has reached a point where sleeping over isn’t just something you do after having sex. It has become something they do because they like spending the night close to each other and waking up together the next morning.

Well, Erik did get them both off with his large hand but it in a nice way, laid-back and relaxing. Not like the muscle straining escapades they’re getting into during some other nights. Just enough to come down from a day of work and huddle into the bed sated.

Emma deserves something big for her next birthday, Charles decides. The new Porsche limousine she has salivated over maybe. So she can get a strong, purring German underneath her too. Ehehe. He imagines her face, if he puts this on the card.

Then again, it was her who introduced them after Charles’ divorce was finally through. A colleague of hers, a divorcee and bi as well, someone to celebrate it with, that he DID sign the prenuptial agreement six years ago. He wasn’t expecting more than a quick fuck coming out of this, but here they are, dating for four months and regularly sleeping over for one and a half. The third longest relationship he ever had in his life and he couldn’t be happier.

That’s when the rumbling begins. The Aloo Gobi was heavy on the cauliflower and damn, this already is louder than normal digestion. He really should leave the room, let the gas pass and go back to sleep. But it’s so cosy and outside it’s cold because Erik won’t let him pay for the heating repair and waits for his cheap installer instead and… He’s not going to leave the snug little nest of blanket he has made himself!

The pressure in him rises and he curls his toes trying to distract his intestines. Amazingly it doesn’t work. His only hope is that Erik has fallen asleep and won’t notice. He’s breathing regularly, right? Oh please, please don’t let this be too noisy.

They are both familiar with several of the other’s bodily fluids, thanks to Erik’s kinky shower fantasies or the attending ills of anal sex, which one usually doesn’t care about too much in the heat of the moment.  
But farting in bed that’s not caused by lube and jammed in air is something different. Something husbands do when they’re married for too long and don’t care anymore about what their wives think. At least that’s how Gabrielle saw it (and there was some truth in that). He’s only been with Erik for four months he can’t just… Another rumble and ah, screw it.

Erik’s turned his back towards him and is on his side, so there’s only one ear to worry about. He just has to make this as discreet as possible. Be stealthy, quiet, no one can hear you…

Of course it’s one long, ear-drum shatteringly loud bottom burp.

He curses inwardly and hopes, nay prays, that Erik didn’t hear that. But then he’s pretty sure people in Timbuktu heard it, so…

Erik giggles.

Great.

There’s silence for a while then Erik giggles again. What on earth was this for? Carefully Charles turns to check, shifting the blanket and goOD LORD!

Charles knows his flatulence, they’re loud but otherwise harmless. What waves in his direction right now however, smells like fresh from Satan’s kitchen. Scratch the fresh, more like ‘overripe and already rotting’ from Satan’s kitchen. Erik’s giggle morphs into a snort and Charles can’t hold it back:

“You sneaky bastard, that’s just, that’s just disgusting!”

He doesn’t manage to sound very severe and Erik just laughs harder.

“Masks, do you have a mask somewhere around? Oh God, there is a sewage leak in our bedroom! Who knew that someone this beautiful could produce something this vile?!”

“You’re such a drama queen” Erik gets in between the gasps. 

Some caused by laughter, some from pretending to struggle for air. Although Charles isn’t sure about how much of it is exaggeration, given the otherworldly stench.

“You started the whole thing.”

“Yeah, but I don’t produce biohazards!” He grins and another guff reverberates between the sheets, sending Erik into the next fit of laughter.

“I’m so glad that you’re you” he croaks out after he has calmed down a little. “Magda would have given me hell for this.”

Charles dares to lift the blanket again and slides closer to Erik. He hugs him and lightly kisses his shoulder.

“Be as icky as you want, you never need to feel ashamed of anything you do in front of me.”

He means it, and as he says it he realises, that maybe, hopefully, Erik thinks so too.

“Besides, you seem to be the expert on sulphur and brimstone here, so I wouldn’t even try to.”


End file.
